Chapter Twenty-six
"Harriet,” a voice called from far away. “Harriet, can you hear me?"
She could hear, but it was too hard to answer. She tried to open her eyes, but it took too much effort. She slid back into the darkness.
When she awoke again, she was lying in a dark room. She wiggled her feet and tensed her hands then released them. She could feel everything, including the IV line attached to the back of her left hand. That had to be a good sign.
She moved her head, and a wave of nausea so powerful she couldn't quell it swept over her. She threw up in a kidney-shaped yellow plastic pan someone held for her. A cool cloth draped across her head.
"Try not to move,” an unfamiliar female voice said.
She opened her eyes again.
"Don't try to talk,” the woman's voice said. “You're in the hospital. Sarah Ness found you slumped on the floor of your studio. She called nine-one-one and they brought you here.” She must have seen the panic in Harriet's eyes. “Don't worry. Your head is fine. It says on your chart you were hit on the head last night. Tonight, it would seem, you were drugged. From the smell of your clothes when they brought you in, it was probably ether or something similar. You'll have a bit of a hangover, but other than that, you should be fine by morning. I'll call the doctor and see if we can give you another shot of Compazine to control your nausea."
Harriet mumbled a thank-you and closed her eyes again. The woman picked up the pan and headed for the door.
"I'll take care of this and be back to clean you up a little. Then if you feel like it, there's a gentleman outside who'd like to see you."
True to her word, the nurse returned with a toothbrush and paste and a warm wet washcloth.
"You just hold still and let me do the work,” she said. “The trigger for nausea is motion."
She worked magic with a squirt bottle and several clean hand towels. Harriet had to admit, she did feel a tiny bit better.
"You ready for your visitor?"
"Give me a clue. Young? Old? Uniform?"
"No uniform, very good-looking."
Harriet nodded ever so slightly.
"What happened?” Aiden said as he rushed into the room. He pulled a wheeled visitor's chair to the side of her bed and sat down, scooping her hand into his as he sat. “Mavis called and said you were going to your studio and she was worried about letting you go there alone. She said she tried to call you to check up and you didn't answer. She asked me to run by and see if you were all right. I passed the ambulance coming down your hill. I checked your studio, and the police were there-I guess Sarah Ness found you. I found Fred and locked him out of the studio so the police could do their thing."
"Thanks,” Harriet mumbled. She pushed her suspicions aside and closed her eyes, knowing she was being weak but unable to fight it.
The grey light of dawn made a pale rectangle of light on her bed the next time she woke up. A different nurse with a digital thermometer and a blood pressure cuff stood by her bedside.
"This'll just take a minute,” she whispered. “I'll try not to wake your boyfriend. He can't have gotten much sleep wadded up in that chair.” She nodded her head toward an upholstered chair near the window.
"He's not my boyfriend.” He could be the reason I'm here, she added to herself.
"If he's not your boyfriend, he should be,” she said. “He hasn't left your side since you've been here. That's not easy to find in a man.” She wrote some numbers on Harriet's chart and left again.
Harriet knew all about men who left. But the nurse was wrong. She didn't need a boyfriend, especially one who kept showing up without an excuse.
She lay in her bed and listened to the rhythmic rise and fall of Aiden's breath. She must have dozed off again, because the next time she looked at the window bright light was streaming in.
"Welcome back,” Aiden said. He was sitting in the wheeled chair beside her bed again. He held a cup of something steaming in his right hand. He swept the hair off her forehead with his left hand, his fingers trailing along the side of her face. “How do you feel?"
She moved her head away from his hand. The area of the lump was still tender, but no nausea greeted her movement.
"Better,” she said. “What happened to me?” she asked for a second time. “This time I want the long version."
"I'd like to hear that one, too,” Officer Nguyen said from the door. “I stopped by to question you last night, but you were…” He paused. “…busy."
Harriet moaned. She didn't remember much about last night, but she did know it had taken more than one dose of the anti-nausea drug before she had fallen into a drugged slumber.
"Let's start with Ms Truman's story. You can wait in the hall till I call you,” he said to Aiden. He pulled the visitor's chair up and sat down. His spicy cologne filled the room with its masculine scent.
Harriet recounted the events from the night before. She started with her arrival at Aunt Beth's house and ended with waking in the hospital.
"So, let's back up a little further,” Nguyen said. “It would seem that a lot of people knew you were staying with Ms Willis. Who knew you were going back to your house?"
She thought for a minute. “Mavis, of course. Lauren Sawyer-I was there to work on her quilt. Someone had damaged it at the show in Tacoma, and we were repairing it.” She closed her eyes. “Sarah Ness. I had just taken her quilt off the machine when…” She trailed off.
"When you were attacked?” Officer Nguyen suggested. “Was there anyone else?"
"Aiden Jalbert. Mavis called him when she couldn't get hold of me-wait. I told him at the memorial that I was going to be working on Lauren's project. Oh, and Harold Minter. I went to coffee with him after the memorial service.” And Misty, she thought. She'd told her she had fabric for her at home. Maybe Misty had decided to take her up on it.
"Can you think of anyone else?"
"The quilt group all rode to the memorial service together. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility that they talked about it on their way home."
"So, what do you have that someone wants bad enough to break into your home twice for?"
"If I knew that, I'd be the first to tell you. As near as I can tell, they didn't take anything when they trashed the place. They ruined a few quilts and messed up a bunch of stuff."
"Who would benefit if the quilts were damaged?"
"No one. Well, the other quilt groups in the show, I guess. Lauren, maybe. I just can't believe anyone wants to win the competition that bad. It's not like there's some big prize. It's mainly about bragging rights."
"Someone wanted something bad enough to come back for a second look.” He stood up. “Okay, Mr. Jalbert, you can come in now."
Aiden returned and sat in the visitor's chair. Officer Nguyen moved to the wide windowsill.
"Start with what you were doing before you went to Ms Truman's."
"I was at my apartment-I have a studio over the vet clinic on Main Street. I was picking up my dog. I'd left her in the outside kennel at the clinic while I was at my mom's funeral. I took Randy for a walk around the block and had just poured her some kibbles when my phone rang."
"Did you talk to anyone, see anyone?"
"Only the dog,” he said with a tight smile. “The phone rang, I put Randy back outside and went to check on Harriet. I passed the ambulance on my way up the hill. I'm sure your buddies told you what I did after I got to the house."
Officer Nguyen shut his notebook. “They did,” he said. “I'm sure we'll have more questions for you later, but this is enough for now.” He turned back to Harriet. “We'll have patrol cars swing by your house a couple of times a night, but I strongly recommend that you continue to stay with Ms Willis until we catch the guy that did this to you."
"Okay, everybody out,” a square-shouldered doctor with a thin sandy-colored ponytail said from the door. “How are you feeling this morning, young lady?"